


bro, i'd take a bullet (or a dick) for you

by bishounen_curious



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Alcohol, College, Friends With Benefits, Grinding, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Nipple Play, Pining, Smoking, and they were ROOMMATES, just guys being dudes, let's go baaaaaack back to the beginningggggg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-12-10 23:03:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11701713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bishounen_curious/pseuds/bishounen_curious
Summary: "Not everyone’s as hippy-dippy progressive about sex as you are, Craigory.”





	bro, i'd take a bullet (or a dick) for you

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to my dork in crime, [jay](https://twitter.com/big_yikes) for beta-ing this monster and being kind to me at the same time

It was around 2 AM when our front door blew open. _Huh, Craig’s back early. Or maybe I’m getting robbed._

Luckily, it was not a man in a ski mask breaking into our dorm, gun cocked and aimed at my sad ass munching on some half-stale corn chips. It was just Craig, nursing a can of Budweiser and a sour look. I looked up from my Intro to Business textbook and decided to scope out the situation. If he was pouting it was because he wanted me to know about it. “Dude, you good?”

Craig stuck out his tongue. All right. With not-too-wobbly steps, he made his way over to my bed and collapsed onto it beside me - spilling some beer in the process too. “Just disappointed, bro.”

“In who?”

Craig lolled his head over to stare me dead in the eyes and said sadly, “Only myself,” before leaning up to kill the rest of the can, crumple it, and toss it across the room. “Tonight was no bueno with Ashley.”

“Ashley?” I could never keep up with his list of one night stands.

“Smashley. Sorry.” 

I nodded in recognition. Ahh. That Business frat girl that Craig was all over. “Like, we both hinted at something maybe going down tonight. I was getting some vibes. _Vibes_. And she just... “ Craig groaned defeatedly. “... ignored me like I wasn’t worth her time, bro.”

I patted his head. “I’m sure she doesn’t think that.”

“I don’t know what to think.” Craig blew a raspberry and let his eyes glide up to the ceiling.

I tossed my textbook to the floor, mingling it with my dirty socks, discarded plastic water bottles, and a mostly-eaten bag of marshmallows. “Wanna _not_ think?”

His cloudy eyes refocused on me. “Bro?”

I lurched over to my desk and snagged my half empty bottle of Jack. I shook it invitingly. Craig knew what that meant for sure.

For a moment, I swear he looked hesitant. But whatever reservations he had washed away in a flash and were replaced by his familiar game-face. “Gimme some.”

I moved to get some shot glasses, but Craig beat me to the punch by taking a huge gulp of whiskey straight out of the bottle. He was positively unfazed after he swallowed and offered me the bottle. 

“Don’t leave me hanging. C’mon.”

A year of being roommates with Kegstand Craig Cahn came with its perks - One being that you could learn to chug any type of spirit without even batting an eye. With practice comes perfection. Accepting the invite, I took a drink - a significantly lesser drink than he had put away - and he received a punch in the arm when I was done. 

He was giving me a look: that kind that scolded me for being a little baby bitch. I rolled my eyes and knocked the bottle back again. He whistled.

“Atta boy.” He snatched the bottle for another double shot as soon as I swallowed. The worst part was that I knew this wouldn’t even make a dent in fucking him up yet.

“Wanna watch TV or something?” I motioned to our clunky setup in the corner. “HBO’s gotta have something nasty on about now.”

That made him snort mid-shot, and he choked. “Bro, warn me before you blow my mind like that.” 

I rolled my eyes. Taking his incredulity as a yes, I slid off my bed to set up the TV. But Craig grabbed my arm and kept me in place. I turned around to see what was up.

“I mean…” Craig shrugged, a little meekly, “Fuck, I wanted to get laid tonight. Y’know… so seeing someone else get lucky might harsh my mellow.”

I raised my eyebrow. “Do you even have a mellow going?”

Craig fake-glared at me. “After a few more shots, yeah. Deffo, dude.”

It was always something. “Do you just wanna chill then? Instead of enjoying that good, good softcore HBO porn?”

Night and day: Craig was nothing but smiles all of a sudden. “Absolutely.” He began wiggling around on my bed, trying to find the one comfortable spot on my lumpy mess of a mattress. Either he found it or gave up, because he went still, releasing a big sigh, and took another clumsy sip of Jack. “Chilling and talking like good bros do.”

Snorting, I took my seat next to him and opted for some more stale chips. Craig, too, grabbed a handful and munched absent-mindedly. Neither of us had high standards. 

A few moments of silence stretched between us, oddly comforting. Craig wasn’t good at silence, but somehow, right now, he was. Just zoning, eating some chips, probably letting the first wave of a nice buzz began to warm him up. Bleary-eyed, he kept focus on the ceiling, listening to the distant party noises seeping through our paper-thin walls, the creak of footsteps above us, the whirrs of the ancient A/C system struggling to cool the building down. 

It felt like real peace.

It was some time before he averted his eyes to look at me. “Mind if I smoke?”

“Why’re you suddenly asking permission?” 

Craig grinned sheepishly. “I’m working on my empathy, dude.”

“You?” I laughed, and Craig joined in as he moseyed over to his side of the room and his mess of a desk, littered with everything from open peanut butter jars to dirty socks. He found what he was looking for underneath his Algebra textbook: a shoe box, which he opened up to extract his reserve, almost dead box of Newports.

He picked one out and offered it to me. Craig knew I was a baby with smokes, but he always asked anyway. “Empathy you got no issues with, bud.” I said, “Probably the only thing you’re A-OK with.”

Craig flipped me off, slipping the cigarette between his lips as he fumbled through his pockets for his lighter. He made his way over to our only window and yanked it ajar. A flick, a flame, and Craig took a long drag - probably much needed - blowing a huge puff of white smoke out into the humid night. He hummed, refocusing on me with those woozy eyes.

 _C’mere,_ he seemed to say.

Just as wordlessly, I hauled my ass up and wandered over, Jack in hand. My elbow joined his on the windowsill, the two of us silently enjoying our vices. 

It wasn’t for awhile until Craig broke the silence. “Girls, man.”

I just shrugged my usual _can’t relate but I’m here for you, dude_ way. 

He took another long drag, whining on the exhale. “Casual shit always gets rocky with ‘em.” He wrinkled his nose. “They just don’t get that sex stuff doesn’t always have to be so grand and holy. Like, we can fuck and it can just be fun, y’know?”

Usually, I would’ve called him out something so dumb and sexist, but he seemed pretty down in the dumps tonight. Particularly down — not in a way that made me believe any of this monologuing of his was true, but actually from a place of hypocrisy. I knew him well enough to guess that Craig probably had feelings for Smashley — real feelings.

I ignored how the thought made my chest tighten. I just took another swig from my bottle.

“— I don’t see why it gets all weird when intimacy and touching get involved. Like, I can eat someone out and it’s all _wow, thanks for letting me do that it was super fun_ and they’re all cool about it. Why can’t that happen more often?”

It was really hard not to laugh. “Not everyone’s as hippy-dippy progressive about sex as you are, Craigory.”

That pulled a snicker out of him. “Craigory. _Nice_.” He flicked some ash out the window. “But seriously, why not? Why is it weird if two people — strangers, friends, whatever, just wanna get each other off?”

“Dude, beats me.”

“Society’s fucked, is all I’m saying.” He took a particularly grumpy drag there. “Denying all of us more orgasms. There’s all these fucking great health benefits, burns calories, helps with stress, and we’re taught that that’s a weird, bad thing. That’s so fucked up.”

“I hear ya.”

“For example,” Craig turned to face me with a dead-ass serious expression. I didn’t like it one bit. “If two bros wanted to blow each other because neither of them could score and were both super-miserably horny, why is it so far-fetched they help each other out?”

Oh, Jesus. Didn’t know how to respond to that one, so I didn’t.

But Craig kept rambling. “That’s like basic bro code. Helping each other when you’re down. Taking a bullet or a dick for your buddy, I don’t see the difference.”

_Well, that makes one of us._

In all reality, the hyper intense stare Craig was throwing my way was making me squirm. This kid was a disaster, a joker, a real piece of work - yet when he wanted to he could make you feel so fucking bare. Like he could see right through you, could scrutinize your organs, your thoughts, and reduce you to nothing but ash. 

I hated it, but at the same time, I didn’t want Craig any other way. He wasn’t just a partier, he was flesh and blood and _raw_ , and it made me fall for him over and over again.

“Yeah,” I mumbled, “Me neither.”

He crushed the remainder of his cigarette into the other scorch marks on the windowsill, and flicked the dead light into the abyss outside. “Mhm.”

We stood there in silence, our shoulders barely touching. Craig coughed, my fingers twitched around the bottle I still felt dumb holding. Eventually, Craig lit another cig. The smokey smell was starting to make me sick, but I didn’t say anything about it.

“How’s your sex life?” He switched gears, not looking at me .

I sighed, looking down at my hands. “Dead. Nonexistent. Confined to my shower stall and right hand.”

Craig nodded knowingly. “I feel ya.” He exhaled through his nose, and I started to wheeze. “Sorry,” he grumbled.

“’t’s fine.”

God, I just wanted to go to bed. But Craig still wanted to talk, which was pretty obvious with the glances he shot me during the brief bouts of awkward silence. Discussing Smashley wasn’t really a topic I wanted to pursue, but Craig seemed super beaten up about it, and I wasn’t that big of a jerk to let him wallow in rejection.

“Hey.” Right on cue he broke the silence. It was nice to know my analysis was spot on. He took another drag, making sure to blow the smoke completely out the window this time so I wouldn’t die before he continued. “Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

He paused before tacking on, “Don’t freak out, okay?” 

Truly the best thing to say to your anxious pal. 

Craig looked only momentarily guilty before he stubbed out his half-dead cig and leaned in closer. “Do you wanna fool around?”

The bottle of Jack — thankfully lidded — slipped out of my grasp and thudded to the floor. 

_Oh._

I was definitely freaking out. Silently, but still. 

He touched my forearm and I winced. “Shhh.” _Shhh?_ I wasn’t making any noise. Stop being so dramatic, Craig. I’m not a puppy. “Hear me out, okay? I’m just worried about you.”

I could barely croak out, “Oh, really?”

“You haven’t been going out lately, bro. You’re constantly staying in studying. I haven’t seen you socializing like, at all, except for with me. And I mean, that’s cool. Everyone goes through a rut... but I’m just concerned.”

“And,” I swallowed, “you’re showing concern by offering sex?”

Craig snorted. “Nah, not sex-sex. Some gentle lip-locking, if you will. Or maybe if you’re feeling frisky I could help you rub one out. Or shoot one down my throat. I’m game for anything, really, dude.”

Maintaining eye contact was super hard after that little offer. Plus his hand was so warm, and maybe I was just a little too drunk or a little incredulous, but I had to look away. Back to my sloppy bed, away from Craig’s easy expression and airy words.

I needed breathing space.

“If you don’t want to, it’s fine.” He said from the window, flashing that grin - the one that made everyone suddenly so endeared to this asshole. “I’m just letting you know I’m here for you. And if you ever want to relieve some pent up aggression or stress, you know where to find me.”

Thank god he was giving me room to just absorb, turn over his words. Unlike him, I didn’t - no, _couldn’t_ \- go around and casually offer myself to just about anyone for some physical shenanigans. Absolutely not. No way. 

But Craig was Craig, and he was just doing him. And I was just doing me, trying not to let on that I was currently trying to stop myself from having a heart attack because I was dealing with some pretty messed up and confusing feelings lately.

Craig picked up my fallen bottle, and unscrewed it for a generous gulp. How the hell were things so easy for him?

And then it hit my drunk ass.

_Why couldn’t they be easy for me, too?_

“Yeah, all right.” I said, my voice only quivering slightly. “Sure.”

Craig coughed mid-drink, and he wiped the whiskey off his chin. “Bro?”

I got off my bed, and made a beeline toward him, every bit grateful that my legs weren’t crapping out on me now. Something unreadable took over his face: joy? incredulity? regret? I didn’t know, and in the moment, I kinda didn’t want to. 

I just didn’t want Craig to think that I was such a little bitch anymore.

“I’ll try it out. See where it goes.” I didn’t need a decoder to know that the next thing washing over Craig’s face was a genuine smile. He started to lean in, and I held a hand up to keep his mouth away from mine. “No kissing, though.”

“Awww, why not?” 

“It’s too intimate for me.” I shrugged, probably doing a shit job at hiding my own humiliation, but whatever. Baby steps. If I got in too deep too quick, who knew what I’d do. Or what I’d say.

Craig rolled his eyes, but didn’t press any further. “What about necking?”

I gave that one a thought. “Uhh…. that’s fine.”

Someone didn’t need to be told twice, because he swooped in like a hawk. I wasn’t so surprised by the action, but more by how soft and warm Craig’s lips felt on my skin, on my pulse.

Instinctively, I froze. Craig always seemed to work in opposition to me: my stillness emboldened him to nudge his kisses up, along my jawline, tickling up to my ear. He could probably feel my heartbeat hammering away, my skin starting to dot with nervous sweats, but all I could really process was that _fuck it had been so long._

“Oh, you’re melting.” Craig’s laughter bubbled through him and into my skin. I couldn’t help but laugh with him, weave my arm behind his back, scrunch his shirt up in my hand. God, did he need to do some laundry, this shirt was gross.

God, why was that adding to the experience.

He was still laughing, though it wasn’t his usual loudmouthed brand. It was huskier, breathier, it was more of a sensation bleeding into me, shooting down through my body until it took root in the base of my spine. Or more accurately, my quickly-excited dick. I hope he wouldn’t notice that so soon.

And even if he did, he wasn’t acknowledging yet. He was being sweet — well, as sweet as you could be while nibbling your best friend’s ear, tugging it between his teeth. My hand around his back was scratching him now, forcing my own mirth out of me. I felt Craig’s smile as he pushed me up against the wall, sandwiched in the space between our well-loved dartboard and even more loved Playboy calendar. The one that Craig “enhanced” by replacing some of the well-endowed female models with equally, yet differently endowed male counterparts. He was definitely something.

My breath was starting to pick up speed as he trailed down my ear via my jugular, kisses becoming much rougher than just pliant lips taking their time. Clawing - I was clawing at him when he bit down on the juncture between my neck and shoulder. It took every ounce of willpower not to groan, to jam any sort of pleasured sound down my throat.

“Bro,” Craig breathed under my chin, his hands skimming up and down my sides, “ _Relax_.”

“I am.” I gritted.

Craig snorted. “And I’m passing Algebra II right now.”

“Fuck you.”

“Now we’re getting somewhere.” He relished in the way my face reddened. “But really, chill. It’s supposed to be good for both of us. I need you to be open and honest about how I’m making you feel.”

He never let me have a break, did he? But I had no choice — he was right, after all. “It feels good, you fucko.”

Craig abandoned my throat and got eye level with me, and far too close. “So let yourself enjoy it. Don’t be so tense. If you sound like a porn star, so be it.” Craig averted his gaze, still smiling, but almost sheepishly. “And I’m sure you’ve heard me when I bring someone home. I’m not exactly the silent type, either. No shame, dude.”

Why’d he have to be like this? Why did I love him for it? All I could currently muster up the courage do to was flick his cheek. That earned me a leer, and I’d be lying if it I said didn’t excite me in more ways than one. He looked like he wanted to eat me.

_Shit, it was kinda hot._

“You wanna play it that way?” Craig’s hands on my sides slid down and crawled beneath the hem of my shirt and started smoothing along my stomach, painfully reminding me that I hadn’t been working out lately. Or ever. It was all too soft, and I wanted to shuck his prying hands away but they just kept climbing higher and — _fuck_.

Craig was back on my throat, nipping along enthusiastically. “Do you like that?” Craig rolled both nipples again. My head just tilted back and I tried to focus on breathing, and I’m pretty sure he took that as an affirmative.

“Y’know,” Craig was rambling again, “It’s always fifty-fifty with nipples. Some people shut down and die like you, some people don’t feel anything. It’s so wild that bodies can be so different.”

I nodded dumbly. My body was starting to go on autopilot, just trying to keep up with the sensations and not embarrass myself. Fuck, I was so hard. “For me,” Craig winked, “maybe you should see for yourself.”

Shit, was that a challenge? Craig knew just how to get to me. My hand was underneath his baseball tee in record time, giving his own left nub a tentative squeeze.

Craig just stared at me, a huge smirk suddenly stretching his mouth. “Nada, pal. Different strokes for different folks, I guess.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Screw you.”

“I was hoping you’d offer, buddy.”

That jackass didn’t even let me fire back anything before pinning me harder against the wall, yanking up my shirt and lurching downward so he could drag his tongue up along my stomach, my sternum. I just gaped at him. “Craig, what the fuck?”

“Exactly what I offered from the get-go?” He peered up at me, his smirk only slightly softened. “Fooling around.” And with that, he zipped to the left and popped my nipple into his hot mouth.

Aww, Jesus. No matter how hard I bit my lower lip, there was no stopping the groan that slipped out of my throat. 

Craig seemed positively thrilled by it. He kept working around the nub with his lips, his tongue, and his _teeth_ for what felt like forever, his fingers worked my right one all the while. Honestly, the fact that someone figured out something new about my body before I did — and that that someone was fucking _Kegstand_ — made me a little pissed. Or at least knew I would be later, but now — _fuck_ that thing he did when he tugged it away from my body with his teeth. Wow, okay — here I thought I’d be horrified when I started getting hard from this, but no. My hips kept twitching, and I prayed that he’d get close enough to me so I could feel his chest against me, against my dick. 

And something was telling me he was having the same thoughts, but was doing everything in his power to hold out as long as possible on me.

“Dude, c’mon.” I eventually gritted out, taking my hands into his stupidly long, tied-up hair and pulled. 

I didn’t expect him to whimper like that.

Experimentally, I yanked a little harder on his head, and the most gravely _fuck yes_ I’ve ever heard hissed out of him. Something in his expression changed as he sunk down to his knees. I felt so powerful.

“Found something _you_ like, I guess.” I teased, raking my nails around his scalp.

“Tell me what you like.” Craig breathed against my hip, trailing wet kisses downward toward the hem of my sweats — different kisses, new kisses, fervent ones. “I wanna make you feel so good, bro.”

 _Fuck_. “You’re making me feel like a wet noodle, dude. Tell me what you like so I can try to return the favor.”

Only then did he look up at me, his fingers massaging tiny circles into the skin just about my sweats. “Honestly, I get off on getting others off.” Just to be even more difficult, he playfully tapped his fingers down until they were stroking along my — _uhhhh_. 

Craig snickered and gave me the best through-the-pants squeeze I’ve ever had. I didn’t even know those had the capacity to make me melt like this. “I’m definitely enjoying myself.”

Mid-glare, I saw that he in fact was not kidding. Craig was in jeans, but even then, there was a very sizable tent in the crotch of them. Shit, he was telling the truth. Dude had the most painful boner I’d ever seen. But even then…

“Just let me make you feel good.” Craig cooed again, nudging his nose into my thigh. “You deserve it, bro. Use me.”

Uhhhhhhhhh.

I honestly didn’t know what to do — nor exactly how to process my roommate basically begging me to fuck his mouth. Just on his knees, mouthing kisses against my throbbing prick, his saliva starting to leave wet spots over the grey fabric of my sweatpants. _Shit shit shit_. And every time I pulled his hair, he just _moaned_ and buried his face more aggressively into me. 

Should I say yes? Give him the get-go to just snap my waistband down so he could take me all the way down his throat? There was so many things, anxiety, guilt, a barely-extant self restraint that was slowly eating me alive, until —

“Suck me off.” I muttered, “But, bro, c’mon, you gotta touch yourself, too.”

Craig just blinked at me before he started to laugh. I could feel all the blood in me shoot up to my face. 

“Wow, being considerate is so sexy.” He winked at me. While I mumbled a slew of embarrassed and half-hearted mean things at him, he undid his tight jeans, and I went quiet. 

God, he was so fucking hard, and the sheer amount of precum that had stained through his boxers was honestly wild. The dude should’ve been miserable - straight up in agony. And he knew damn well I was staring. Craig’s face was flushing against his will, but he was trying to play it off like it was nothing. “See? I told you what this shit does to me, ha.”

This wasn’t right.

I crouched down to Craig’s level. “Bro,” I slipped the elastic of his underwear down, freeing his tortured-looking cock. It twitched. “I’m not gonna leave you in the dust.” 

Craig’s face was unreadable. That didn’t jive well with me, so I took the opportunity to get him to do something I could actually make heads or tails of. With a fistful of hair yanked back and a nice, firm squeeze to his cock, I ripped hands-down the hottest yelp I’d ever heard out of his throat.

“Bros don’t let their best bros suffer alone.” I smirked into his neck. “I’ll rock your world if you rock mine.”

Dumbfounded, Craig gaped at me. “Yeah?”

I leaned in closer, taking his ear into my mouth, and he spluttered out a giggle that made me feel weak-kneed. “Yeah.”

“Oh,” Craig snickered, squirming around as I nipped at his earlobe, “so it’s cool if I do this?” And with that, slipped his hand into my pants and gave me a real good squeeze in retaliation.

“Only if I can get you back.” I rebutted with a nice, full stroke to his, and Craig shut his eyes with renewed peals of breathy laughter.

We took turns groping and spouting cheesy lines at one another, until eventually we got horizontal, a shirtless Craig hovering over me with a flushed, giddy smile. 

“See?” He cheered, “This shit is so nice.”

I nodded, tracing the slight pudge on his stomach, the moles scattered around his ribs. “Mhm.”

Craig bit his lip and laughed some more, and I don’t know what came over me — maybe it was the booze and cigarette smell coming from his mouth, or how carefree he looked or just how much I suddenly was _feeling shit I’d rather not dwell too much on_ , but I decided I didn’t care about our one ground rule.

I leaned up to kiss the idiot. That stopped his laughter, all right.

Craig titled his head and deepened the kiss. He was less hovering and more leaning on me for support, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to hold him, undo his stupid bun so I could run my fingers through his hair, up and down his sides, just... everything. And he was just so _warm_ , everything about him so pliant and smooth and damn, did he know how to kiss. Biting my lower lip, coaxing my mouth open so his tongue could swipe over mine, my teeth, my gums. 

God, he was just so sweet. So human. Everything about this felt whole. 

After stretches of time trying to make each other gasp, he’d pull away, peck the corner of my mouth and travel around my jaw, just murmuring the kindest shit I’ve ever heard. How I was his best friend. How much he cared about me. How much this meant to him. All these little sweet nothings that I knew where exactly that — nothing — but damn, it felt so wonderful to feel loved like this. Even though it wasn’t the way I wanted, it would certainly do for now.

I don’t know how long that went on for, but eventually it had to be cut short, and Craig sure didn’t have the discipline for that. I touched the back of his neck. “Hey.”

He hummed, his face in my neck now, leaving a hickey in a spot that my shirt collar only dreamed of covering. I patted his butt more insistently, and he snorted. Hm. Upping the ante, the pat turned into a smack, and that got his attention.

We needed to step it up a notch.

Taking my time, I attempted to pull both his underwear and jeans down. It didn’t really work; denim wasn’t the easiest to undress, but it got the message across. He sat up on his knees and tugged down his pants, watching while I removed my own sweats with ease.

Craig was a less giggly and sappy now, but it was still there in his smile as he lowered back down to pepper kisses along my cheek. “Got a plan?” He teased.

I shrugged before flipping him off me, rewarded with a terrified yelp from him, and pinned him beneath me. “Maybe,” I smirked.

The awe Craig regarded me with was going straight to my head. Both of them, really.

Wasting no time, I fumbled our leaky dicks together, and took an experimental thrust against him. Craig threw his head back, holding me so, so close.

“Bro,” he whined, “ _Good shit_.”

I just grunted, absolutely in agreement before starting to rut against him.

Things devolved quickly. There was still laughter, lots of kissing, hair pulling, and plenty of bad jokes, but everything started to weave together into something clumsy, hurried. Craig was panting, snapping his hips up in rhythm with mine, making these staccato sounds that I felt in my prick. And I was so sweaty - just so fucking sweaty - but I didn’t care, because Craig’s swollen cock felt so good against mine. 

I had no idea what I was doing, but I knew what I wanted, and Craig kept goading me, choking on his own breath, begging me for more, challenging me for more because he was a competitive jackass. And it was working. I was competitive too, and I wanted to succeed — I needed to be the best — _his best_. Craig needed to be wrecked, and I wanted to see him reduced to nothing, just sticky, goofy smiles and whispers, and I had to be the one to do this to him.

It had to be me.

Through the sweat burning my eyes, I saw his face contorting with every wave of pleasure aching though him, mounting through him fast, biting his lip, breath harshening. He was staring up at me like I was the only thing that mattered right now, the only thing he could comprehend, and he ground upward, harder, and his nails in my shoulders. “ _Oh fuck I’m there, I’m gonna — yeah keep going, Jesus please_ —” 

— and I watched him _break_. 

A soundless gasp shook him from the base of his spine up to the crown of his head, and he shuddered, pulling me into it as he recklessly fucked up against me, barely breathing, so gross and boozy-breathed and spent out of his mind. Everything between us became slicker, stickier, and Craig wouldn’t let me go. He went boneless in my arms as I put everything into the my few thrusts against him, groaning into his neck and biting down, everything even grosser between us, but fuck if I cared.

As I came down, the fog clearing my mind, I noticed Craig was stroking my hair, running his clammy hands under my shirt and along the length of my back.

Of course he was a cuddler.

Even though I still had trouble breathing, I managed to laugh at him. “You’re such a tender boy.”

Craig cackled. “Oh, absolutely. I just love snuggling up to people that cover me in semen.”

Well, that was horrifying. “May I remind you that you are also guilty of the same crime?”

The little jerk pecked me on the lips and sighed, “Your point?”

With a groan, I rolled off him and attempted, with shaky limbs, to find anything to clean us off. A roll of paper towel did the trick, and after finishing myself, I went to wipe down Craig. He kept making a face the entire time. 

“You really know how to show a guy a good time.”

I held my not-holding-a-spunk-filled paper-towel-hand to my heart. “I try, dude.”

His smile only brightened. “Seriously, though. That was fun. You’re a really good time. Like I’d do it again with you, y’know?”

“Thanks for peer pressuring me.”

He deflated, and I watched something nervous creep into his expression. “Wait, did I really —?”

I held up my hands and shook my head. “No, no, I’m kidding.” I tossed the wad of paper towels into the nearby garbage bin. “It was totally of my own volition. I mean, even with all the Jack.”

That seemed to placate him, and with a sigh of relief, he shucked his jeans completely off his legs. Sticking out his tongue, he got up on his feet, walked completely naked to our mini fridge, and extracted a Hot Pocket. “You hungry?”

I was in love with Kegstand Craig Cahn. Wholly and completely so. 

I gave him the affirmative, and with a salute he popped two Hot Pockets into our janky microwave, humming a tune I barely recognized. 

Sitting up, I drank him in: his skin, his light disposition, the way he was so comfortable in the afterglow of what we just did. I watched as he went to light a cigarette. He caught me staring and flushed, and I waved him off, not caring about the smoke. Not now, anyway. With a wink towards me, he lit up.

After a long first drag, he blew the smoke up at our low, whitewashed ceiling and whistled. “Honestly, I love you, bro.”

Ha.

“I love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> yikes sorry about that one it was a lot
> 
> chat me up, commission me, yell at me about your daddy thoughts
> 
> http://bishounen-curious.tumblr.com/


End file.
